


For Better or For Worse

by caitrionabh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hospital, Illness, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4087249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitrionabh/pseuds/caitrionabh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bokuto goes down in the middle of practice it's obvious that something's wrong. Akaashi is determined to be there as long as he's needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> still working out the kinks and whether this is going to end tragically or not. hopefully it comes together. apologies for any inaccuracies, i'm no doctor and there's only so much research i can do

As per usual Bokuto was all over the court during practice. Slamming spikes down across the net, sulking after being blocked one too many times, constantly looking to Akaashi to ask whether he’d seen, whether he’d been watching. And of course he’d been watching. Bokuto was like that when cheerful, hard to ignore, loud and attention grabbing, his every action saying “Look at me! Look at me!”.

 

So of course Akaashi was watching when mid-step Bokuto seemed to fold in on himself, hitting the ground too hard for it to have been a simple fall.

 

“Bokuto!” His panic was echoed as the rest of the team noticed their capitan lying motionless on the floor, the practice forgotten.

 

He was first at Bokuto’s side, carefully shifting him onto his back noting with no small amount of relief that his chest was rising and falling with breath. He could dimly hear the coach on the phone in the background, the worried mutters of the team around them, but his focus was on the boy in his arms, whose eyes were slowly starting to flutter open.

 

“‘kaashi?” Bokuto mumbled.

 

Akaashi’s grip tightened on him slightly. “Are you hurt? Do you know what happened?”

 

Bokuto’s slightly unfocused gaze met his and as he registered the worry in Akaashi’s face a look of fear flickered across his face before being replaced by a strained smile.

 

“Nothing hurts, I’m sure it was just tiredness or something, I’ll be fine.”

 

Bokuto kept up the reassurances for the rest of the team even as the ambulance arrived and he was loaded into the back, but his look of fear stuck with Akaashi, even as the coach gathered in the team to encourage them and say that Bokuto would be back soon but practice was over for today so clean up and head home.

 

Akaashi barely slept that night, woken by recurring nightmares where he had Bokuto in his arms, but he never woke.

 


	2. Chapter 2

When he woke from restless sleep the next morning, Akaashi had never been so glad it was a Saturday in his life. After grabbing a quick breakfast he headed out to visit Bokuto, who was, to the best of his knowledge, in the hospital where he’d been held overnight for observation.

 

Luckily he’d accidentally managed to arrive just as visitor hours were starting and after asking where Bokuto’s room was at the front desk, he swiftly made his way down the brightly lit halls.

 

Akaashi hated hospitals, they smelled of medicine and chemical cleaners that couldn’t quite mask the scent of sickness. The very air seemed unnatural in some way that couldn’t quite be described, not still, but sterile in a way air usually wasn’t. Even the lighting and the walls were harsh and uncomfortable despite any and all attempts to make them look calming for the patients. He couldn’t picture someone as bright, as loud, as alive as Bokuto in this environment. It just felt wrong.

 

But the worst had to be the sound. The hum of humidifier, the steady beeps or heart monitors and the whirs of the computers that watched the patients constantly. Over this background was the soft, reassuring voices of the nurses as they went about their business, only raised in emergencies, the stern, cool voices of the doctors, the desperate cries of patients and loved ones alike. Occasionally, the discordant noise of one of the beds being moved echoed through the hallways.

 

He walked faster, almost desperate to see Bokuto’s face, to know he was still himself, not changed by the environment that surrounded him. He reached the door, breathed, knocked and peered into the room.

 

Bokuto was alone in the room, sitting upright in the bed, the television on - some cartoon for kids played on a Saturday morning, of course, what else. But Akaashi’s attention was more focused on the wires connecting Bokuto to a heart rate monitor, the IV drip in his arm, the flimsy hosptial gown he was wearing. Hearing Akaashi enter, Bokuto turned, and when he saw who it was, his face lit up.

 

“You came!”

 

Pulling his attention back to Bokuto, he tried to smile, “Of course I came.”

 

Bokuto saw through his attempt at nonchalance. “Are you okay.”

 

“You’re the one sitting in a hospital bed and you’re asking if I’m okay?” Akaashi asked, incredulous. “Don’t worry about whether I’m okay, worry about yourself being okay!”

 

Realizing that he’d been nearly shouting Akaashi stopped and sighed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. Just tired I guess”

 

“It’s alright.” Bokuto replied. “Long night?”

 

“Something like that. I couldn’t sleep.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Akaashi shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. This is supposed to be about how you’re doing. Are your parents around?”

 

“I sent them to get breakfast.” Bokuto shrugged before continuing, “I could live without them for an hour and they needed the break. They’re worried.”

 

Akaashi crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’re all worried about you, idiot.”

 

Bokuto smiled up at him. “Aw, I didn’t know I meant so much to you.”

 

Akaashi rolled his eyes as Bokuto snickered and for a moment they lapsed into a comfortable silence. When he felt something touch his hand he looked down to see Bokuto hand carefully taking his. Without thinking, he laced their fingers together, before looking up and meeting Bokuto’s gaze.

 

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked.

 

Akaashi nodded, feeling Bokuto’s grip on his hand tighten.

 

“I’m scared.”

 

And even as he felt his world tilt sideways, felt like the sun had suddenly gone out, he reached for the boy next to him and pulled him close. Bokuto hid his face against his neck and as Akaashi felt tears wetting his skin he forced himself to hold it in, knowing that right now he need to be strong. And as he rubbed Bokuto’s back soothingly, he gave him the words he needed to hear.

 

“I’m here, Bokuto. I’m right here.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Bokuto’s parents returned, tears had been dried and Bokuto was as close to his normal hyper self as he could be. Akaashi quietly greeted them noting the strain in their shoulders, the redness of their eyes. They exchanged small talk for a moment before a nurse poked her head around the doorframe to call his parents out to meet the doctors.

 

When they left, Akaashi felt Bokuto’s hand slowly creeping back into his. When their fingers interlocked he gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

 

“They haven’t told me what’s wrong.” Bokuto said, looking out the window. “They keep talking in whispers though. Like if they don’t say anything I won’t realize that something’s wrong.”

 

Akaashi felt his chest tighten in sympathy, in fear. Was is more likely that they didn’t want to tell him in case it was something minor? Or because they thought it might be something serious?

 

He forced himself to smile, “I’m sure they just want to make sure before they tell you.”

 

Bokuto didn’t notice the strain in his voice. Or maybe he did, and was desperate enough to ignore it. “Yeah you’re probably right.” He grinned and continued, “And then I’ll be back to kick ass on the volleyball court. You guys better not slack off if I have to miss practice.”

 

“We wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

Hearing footsteps outside the door, both boys looked up. Bokuto’s parents flanked a doctor who’s almost pitying expression spoke volumes. Behind him, Akaashi could feel the grip on his hand tighten painfully, but he didn’t ask Bokuto to let go. There was a part of him that could feel the water rising and if they let go they would both slip under the waves.

 

The doctor asked Akaashi to give them a moment of privacy, but when Bokuto’s asked if he could stay - had his voice ever sounded so small, so tentative? - no one objected.

 

Over the next hour, only a few things made it solidly into Akaashi’s consciousness. An issue with Bokuto’s heart, more tests, a bit of a hospital stay just to monitor things. It could be nothing but if it wasn’t, if it was more than that, Bokuto might never make it back onto the court. The doctor tossed around medical terminology, words that were cold, detached from the person whose warm hand was locked tightly with his.

 

When all was said and done, they were left in the never quite silence of the hospital. Time to process information, the doctors had said. Slowly, Bokuto had released his grip on Akaashi’s hand and again in that quiet, utterly unlike Bokuto voice, asked if he could have some time alone. Promising to be back tomorrow, Akaashi left him in silence.

 

Of course, he couldn’t help but think as he left, of everything to be wrong with someone like Bokuto, it would have to be that his heart was too large.

 


	4. Chapter 4

By the time it was morning, Akaashi’s eyes stung from a combination of staring at a computer for several hours and sheer exhaustion. Medical jargon and complex diagrams swirled in his head, no less confusing or worrying at 6 am than they’d been at midnight.

 

Against his will he felt his eyes slipping shut, fatigue weighing his eyelids down, but as the world around him faded out Bokuto’s face, with that scared expression that made him look so young, so fragile, swam into focus behind his eyelids.

 

He rubbed his eyes furiously, breaking the image into a thousand dots of light before slowly blinking his eyes back open. He looked down when he heard his phone chime softly, the screen lighting up to reveal a picture of himself looking bemused with a smiling Bokuto, one arm flung around his shoulders, the other raised to take the picture.

 

The message was from Bokuto.

 

“ _hey Akaashi. you awake?_ ”

 

“ _Yeah._ ”

 

After waiting ten minutes for Bokuto to reply, Akaashi sent another text.

 

“ _Are you okay? Did you want to talk?_ ”

 

And after a moment, a reply.

 

“ _are you coming today?_ ”

 

“ _If you want me to._ ”

 

“ _please_ "

 

Akaashi was gripping his phone so tightly that a small part of him was surprised it hadn’t broken. The part that wasn’t preoccupied with keeping his grip on reality, which seemed to be falling out from under him.

 

Bokuto had always been childish. Always changing moods as suddenly as a summer shower, and after joining the team, Akaashi had learned, like the rest of them, how to handle them. How to take care of Bokuto in a way, how to balance him out and keep him on track. There was a running joke that Bokuto had a team’s worth of parents looking out for him.

 

But how were they supposed to deal with this? How was he supposed to deal with this? As much as they joked about the team holding Bokuto together, there was always the knowledge that Bokuto was the one holding the team together. That was why he was the captain, why he was the ace.

 

And as his setter wasn’t Akaashi supposed to support him?

 

And as he let himself fall back onto his bed, exhaustion finally overwhelming him, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d cut his lifeline and begun to sink, even as he tried to keep Bokuto afloat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i just feel like akaashi is the type to use full punctuation even while texting and also take too much responsibility for the people he cares about)


End file.
